


Sometime Around Midnight

by OshindiJo



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Bar, Drinking, F/M, Modern AU, Songfic, it makes me feel things, this was in my head and needed to be written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-13 01:52:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14739824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OshindiJo/pseuds/OshindiJo
Summary: Link has no memory since the accident but the laugh of a woman who he knows nothing about - until one day she walks into his usual bar.Modern AU snapshot fic of a very different Breath of the Wild.





	Sometime Around Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based on the song Sometime Around Midnight by the band The Airborne Toxic Event. I would highly recommend you give it a listen, it delivers hard on the vibe! [Enjoy!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m53cWa-CdUg)

Link was drunk. Slouched low in his barstool to avoid having to talk to other patrons, he nursed his drink with the sullen expression that often overtook his features these days. The soft click of pool balls and sound of the band playing some alt rock song registered in his mind, the voices of other drinkers in their soft murmured conversations, but none of it particularly mattered to him. Nor did the presence of his friend who was, at the moment, across the bar talking to some pretty girl in a dark dress. The song that was playing was something about forgetting- how ironic. He was trying to remember. Always, trying to remember. Without glancing up, he tilted his head back to shoot the rest of the whisky in his glass. The bar lights made the polished wood shine as the tender moved to refill the cup. Link didn’t stop him. Drinking himself into a stupor wouldn’t help him get his memories back, but it couldn’t hurt either.

 _Months_ it had been now. Months since he’d woken up in the alley by his house without even knowing his own name. Sure the cops who’d found him had identified him easily enough- his friends had tried to help him fill in the blanks- but whoever he had been before had been a private person and there wasn’t much to know. He had worked a lot, traveled maybe? He had an apartment, modest enough, with space for one person. He had the keys to a car he couldn’t remember how to drive. He had plates and cups he couldn’t remember buying. He had a closet full of guns. Perhaps whoever he had been before had admired his ability to defend himself. The only thing he found that seemed to resonate with him at all was a small bottle of lotion in the bathroom. He’d uncapped it in his slow exploration of the apartment, spread some onto his hand and shuddered. Apples and lavender? What a nice smell. It made the back of his head echo with soft musical laughter, made the palms of his hands burn as if they remembered sliding along warm skin. It wasn’t _his_ smell, was it? Surely not. So he’d left the bottle there in the bathroom, another unsolved mystery.

He’d done his best. Helped people where he could, reconnected with his friends, but all of them agreed that this was the longest they had ever seen him in one place. You were always with that girl, they said. What girl? He had begged for that information, forced the cloying words out of his throat even though the act of speaking was torture these days. This wasn’t his mouth, they weren’t his words. It was all wrong. What girl? He had asked, again and again. No one knew, really. She was gone too, he supposed. Maybe she had stolen his memories and run away with them.

He’d gotten a job now. Construction. Something where he could work hard all day, ignore the empty spaces in his mind that were full of the shadows of laughter and apples and lavender. Something where he could ignore everything, come to the bar at the end of the day, and drink until it didn’t matter what he could and couldn’t remember. He was like an animal now. Work. Eat. Drink. Sleep. Repeat. He hunched lower in the seat, pointedly ignoring the piano which had begun to dole out some melancholy tune. Fifteen minutes seemed like long enough for him to endure this, long enough for his friend to score or fail. He could go home and sleep dreamlessly.

The bell on the door of the bar tinkled lightly as it swung open, letting in a gust of frozen winter air. He didn’t look up. He didn’t care. Whoever it was could order their drinks and get fucked. A deep man’s voice spoke in quiet tones with the bartender, and glasses clinked onto the bar. The man’s voice sounded again, this time directed to someone else. His companion maybe? The woman with him laughed softly in response to whatever he’d said.

Link froze.

It couldn’t be. He didn’t look up, didn’t let himself glance away from the amber colored liquid in his glass, vibrating from the shaking of his hand. That laugh. _That goddamn laugh._ The room was spinning around him as he lifted his head very slowly in the direction of the patrons. The man came into his blurred, intoxicated vision first. Tall, dark, with neatly combed red hair and powerful shoulders. His nose was long and hooked, and he was drinking from a frosted glass. Some kind of beer, maybe. It didn’t really matter because Link’s attention was drawn instantly to the woman next to him, the laugher. Her back was towards him but he could see a curtain of golden hair hanging down the back of her white trench coat, from under the stylish little hat she was wearing. She was short, slender and delicate, each movement giving the impression of absolute grace. He couldn’t stop staring. He couldn’t break his gaze. Link had never felt more rooted into his seat. Perhaps when he wasn’t paying attention, he had turned into a statue. It would explain why his stomach seemed to be made of solid lead. The woman spun away from the tall man to talk to bartender, ordering a tonic with a smile that made him dizzy. She wasn’t far from him- two or three stools maybe? Tentatively leaning forward, Link sniffed softly.

Apples and lavender. It hit him, unmistakable, rocking him to his core. This woman. He _knew_ this woman. He had to know her. She was the woman from his bathroom, the one lurking in the dark corners of his mind. He could imagine her in his arms effortlessly, hear her voice whimpering his name, see the expanses of her naked body in his bed like artwork laid out in front of him, she was breathtaking, beautiful-

The man with the red hair was looking and Link jerked his face away before he could be seen, pulling the baseball cap lower. Memories were crashing over him, rushing around him like ocean waves tearing through the nothing. They weren’t complete, but the fragments were more tantalizing than anything he could conceive of. The curl of her body against his, entwined with him. The dizziness took him again and he leaned heavily on his elbows, trying to catch his breath. Oh god. God. It was _her._ He had to talk to her, make her aware of his presence.

He saw the man squeeze her arm and move off in the direction of some men around a table near the back. The moment he was gone her shoulders slumped, she clutched her drink closer to her chest. Emotions clawed at him. This was his chance, but she looked so… small. So frightened and alone there under the harsh lights of the bar. Logic was out the window now. This woman was hurting, and in the depths of his soul Link knew that alone was wrong. That alone he would fight anyone for. He cleared his throat, but she didn’t seem to notice him. God, could he do this? Of course he could. With effort, he cleared his throat again. Startled from her reverie, the woman slowly looked up.

“... _Link?”_ Her green eyes went wide when she saw his face, and there was a crash as she dropped her glass. It hit the bar sideways, turning over and spilling its contents onto the wood. She didn’t move closer, face white. “Is- is it really you?”

How did he answer that? Was it really him? Surely not, he wasn’t _anyone._ She couldn’t know him, didn’t know him. No one knew him. But this was the woman from his bathroom wasn't it? Conflicting voices shrieked in his mind and he found it easier not to answer, staring back at the woman while the bartender quickly mopped up the mess with a paper towel. She took half a step closer, eyes flickering towards the back of the room to see if her companion was looking. Link turned in his seat to check too, but the man was absorbed in conversation, sitting down at the table. Money was changing hands. “How are you?” She whispered, hands fluttering at her sides. He had to answer her this time, the question hung between them in the air like a tangible thing.

“How do you… know me.” He choked the words out. Not a question exactly, there wasn’t an inflection, but a demand. The golden woman had answers. She knew who he was before. She could help him. He… he could help her?

The light in her face had faded though, at his words, hands lowering to her sides. Realization was settling on her, he could see it like a steel beam being lowered onto her shoulders. “You don’t… remember?”

Remember. _Remember._ Link wanted to scream, wanted to grab the woman’s arms and clench them tightly and shake her and make her tell him and hold her so close. So, so close. Keep her far away from the pain in her eyes. Take it for her if he could. He shook his head no, very slow. He could not give the golden woman what she wanted. He did not remember. She exhaled between her teeth and gave him a grim little smile. “That’s too bad. I’m sorry.”

What?? That wasn’t what he wanted, wasn’t what he’d expected. He sat forward in his seat, but she took a step away from him.

“Who are you?” He managed, voice almost a growl. The grim smile grew softer, more rueful.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does!”

She was looking at the back now. The man was returning and she turned away from Link, thanked the bartender for her drink. He was moving to stop her, but her words caught him first. “Maybe if you open your eyes, you’ll remember.” The man had reached her now, took her elbow and looked around the room. Instinctively Link ducked his head, some part of his brain taking over to force him out of sight. He towered over the golden woman who came only to his chest. He gave the impression of someone who had always had power and money, someone dark and intelligent and very dangerous. His gaze passed over Link without settling on him, and he grunted.

“Let's go, Zelda.” The name rang Link’s head like a gong. _Zelda._ God it was like music. It fit her perfectly, golden and glowing like the name of some goddess from stories. The man gripped Zelda tighter, manhandling her more than allowing her to walk, and she made a very soft noise of pain. That noise alone was almost enough to make Link rip the man’s head off right there, right in that moment. His blood was boiling, his stomach felt like coiled ropes wrapping around and around inside of him. How dare he? How dare he hurt that perfect woman?

“I’m coming.” Her voice was soft, a whisper, while the man let go of her to lay crisp bills from his wallet onto the bar counter. He was moving out the door now, and she with him, hesitating a moment in the doorway to look back at where Link sat. Her eyes pleaded. He couldn’t just sit there. Link slid out of his seat, started towards her- but she bolted through the door after the man and was gone. The bell tinkled with dull finality.

Link slammed the door open after her, neck twisting so he could scan up and down the street, blood and liquor crashing in his ears. Zelda was gone, gone with that man. He wanted to scream. Nothing had changed, he couldn’t remember any better now than he’d been able to before. Everything had changed. The golden woman, the apples and lavender woman, Zelda. That girl. That girl he was always with. He had to find her.

“Link??” his friend had joined him in the doorway, shivering in the icy air. “What is it?? You look like you saw a ghost!” Link pushed past her, staggering from the alcohol, headed in the direction of his apartment. People were looking at him but he didn’t fucking care. It didn’t matter what he looked like to these people. The only thing in his dizzy mind was Zelda. He had to find her. He _had_ to find her. What was it she’d said? Maybe if you open your eyes, you’ll remember. _Well they’re fucking open Zelda. They’re open as wide as they go. Where are you??_ He just had to see her, just once. It didn’t matter if he was the person she remembered, it didn’t matter if he remembered her. He had to find her. He had to see her. He kept repeating it to himself as he moved down the long line of harsh streetlights.

Link knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was the only person who could fix him or break him in two, and while the thought scared him, the rest didn’t matter. She mattered. He had a lead now, a clue. He wasn’t going to stop looking until he found her.


End file.
